The Wages of Bluff
MURTEESTALKEDaway over the bare track towards the homestead gate and the camp. Bony called to Charlie, and when Charlie reached him, he loudly called for Sarah. The cook emerged and divided her attention between the departing Medicine Man and Bony, who said:
“Come with me.”
He took them up to the pine trees and told them to sit beside him. There was silence while he rolled the inevitable cigarette.
“Now will you tell me everything I want to know,” he said smoothly. “There will be no more backing and filling. You don’t understand, but no matter, that all you aborigines have been bricks in a wall I have battered down. Now I tell you something else.
“Remember those tracks I made at the veranda steps? Same tracks that were found behind the meat-house, and which every whitefeller said were Yorky’s. Someone else made those tracks, to make believe Yorky made them. I find out that old Beeloo didn’t go walkabout that time. He came to homestead thinking to get tobacco from Mrs Bell after Mr Wootton left for Loaders Springs. He saw Yorky and Linda walkabout on the lake, and he saw a horseman galloping up the rise back there. That horseman could have been the feller who made those crook tracks at the meat-house. He could have killed Mrs Bell.”
Sarah’s eyes were now blazing black opals. Bony went on:
“That horseman was too far away for Beeloo to see who it was. If the feller on that horse killed Mrs Bell, then why did Yorky clear out with Linda? You tell me, eh?”
“One of them sums the Missioner asked us kids,” Charlie grumbled. “If it takes two minutes for a boomerang to go round in the circle in a north wind… Something like that?”
“Yes, Charlie, something like that. Sarah, I’m telling you this because there’s a good chance that Yorky didn’t kill Mrs Bell. That’s a good reason why we must catch up with Yorky. Supposing he didn’t kill Mrs Bell. All right, then Yorky took Linda away, and if Linda died after he took her away, then Yorky is going to jail for a long time. That’s why you must tell me all you can.
“Now Beeloo saw Yorky and Linda out on the lake, and he says that Yorky must have been wearing whitefeller’s Kurdaitcha shoes. Remember, Charlie, I showed you a board out at Yorky’s camp, and you wouldn’t say what it was. I know now. It was a board for Yorky to walkabout on the mud.”
“That’s true,” admitted Sarah. “Yorky wore them boards when he had to work on the fence where it goes little way into the lake.”
“Then he could go out a longlong way along a dingo pad wearing those board shoes, couldn’t he?”
Sarah nodded, her eyes now like garnets. She shook her head when Bony asked if ever she had gone with Yorky far out. Sensing opposition building to meet further questioning, he asked:
“What’s out there? Dry land?” They looked at each other, each waiting for the other to answer. “I’ll tell you. There is dry land out there.” Their eyes showed relief when Charlie said:
“Bad place out there, all right. Pretty near the middle. Nothing only sand and a bit of scrub. That’s what Murtee says. He’s been there, but no one else has, or won’t tell.”
“Anything to eat?”
“Plenty of rabbits. Along one side, so Murtee says, there’s a long waterhole with fish in it, and ducks nesting all about.”
“A good place for Yorky to hide up with Linda, eh?”
“You sure that Murtee not telling lies?” inserted Sarah. “First time I hear of that ole place.”
“You’re a lubra,” Charlie told her loftily.
“Yair. I’m a lubra. One time I’ll choke that Murtee.”
“One time Murtee point the bones at you, and you fall down and grab your stomach and die. Murtee is plenty powerful.”
“That will do,” commanded Bony. “Charlie, would you make me a pair of Kurdaitcha shoes to walkabout for Yorky?”
“Too right. Whend’you want ’em?”
“By tonight.”
“Okee. Boss let me work in carpenter’s shop?”
“He will. That sun’s getting low, Sarah. What about dinner?”
They went down the slope to the homestead, where Sarah entered the house to fence with a wildly curious Meena.
Having showered and changed, Bony found Wootton in the living-room.
“That little scheme of mine paid dividends this afternoon,” he said, sitting with the cattleman. “Will you be talking to your neighbours after dinner?”
“Probably. Why?”
“Could you arrange with them to listen in to a broadcast at five tomorrow morning?”
“Yes. What’s it all about?”
“Who is your oldest neighbour; been living out here the longest?”
“People named Petrie down on the south of the lake, I think.”
“I’d like to talk with them tonight. Would you contact them?”
“Easily.”
Meena appeared, to set the table, and the cattleman knew something had happened from her excited eyes and energetic movements. He was frowning at the polished tips of his leather slippers when Bony asked if he would loan him a rifle.
“Of course,” he replied. “I’ve a Winchester ·44 and a Savage ·25.”
“The Savage. It would be lighter. Who are your nearest neighbours to the south?”
“The same. ThePetries. Their homestead is about a hundred miles from here. Well in financially. Two sons working there, and generally half a dozen white stockmen.”
“I don’t remember the place,” admitted Bony. “Must have passed by on my way up when I skirted the lake. Track, of course?”
“Yes. You go up the long rise to the old homestead where theMurphys once lived. You know, the people from whom I bought Mount Eden. On from there to the bore where young Lawton met you the other day.”
“That day Mrs Bell was shot, Arnold Bray was sent to the old homestead for iron?”
“Yes, that’s so.”
“Does he do much riding?”
“Very little. You’re damned mysterious this afternoon, Inspector.”
“I’ll tell you something. You will recall that I said it was possible for one of you five men to have returned here that morning and murdered Mrs Bell. After you left in your car that day, a man was seen riding hard from the homestead up the rise and heading for the old homestead. I am rather curious to know who he was.”
“Is that so?” drawled Mr Wootton. “Then one of three of us five could have ridden back and shot Mrs Bell?”
“Don’t take me too literally. That rider could have come from thePetries ’ station. He could have had nothing to do with shooting Mrs Bell. He might have come on a legitimate visit, found Mrs Bell dead, and rushed away in a panic. I have made certain plans, and you will learn something of them this evening when we talk to thePetries and arrange tomorrow’s broadcast. Dinner seems to be served.”
Wootton’s excusable curiosity wasunallayed by Bony during dinner and, immediately afterwards, Bony left the house and sought Charlie, who had returned to the carpenter’s shop.
The aborigine had fashioned the mud shoes and fitted to them leather straps, and Bony now tried them on, finding them most awkward.
“Not that way,” Charlie told him. “You slide ’em. Sarah show me; I show you.”
“Good! I’ll have to get the knack. Remember that dog-pad we saw half a mile from the pines? How many more pads like that nearby?”
“One more-at the hut on the boundary. Two more up by the Neales.”
Charlie agreed to keep watch on the pad near the homestead, as from after dark, to inform Bony if any blackfeller went out to warn Yorky. Later, for an hour, he talked with the surrounding neighbours over the transceiver, and, indirectly, gained much useful information about the country, and nothing whatever concerning the centre of Lake Eyre, save that it must be a bog even during the long period of drought. Still later, Wootton became interested in certain preparations. The Savage rifle was checked, ammunition poured into a small calico bag, dry biscuits and tinned meat brought from the store, and an old rucksack Wootton remembered having for several years.
Bony slipped away from the house and sought Charlie, who was faithfully on duty at the appointed dingo pad. The aborigine reported having seen no one on that part of the beach, and Bony sent him home to his bunk, and himself cat-napped the night away until just before dawn.
It was five o’clock when he and Wootton sat before the transceiver, and Bony began his broadcast. He said:
“It is now six weeks since Mrs Bell was shot here at Mount Eden, and her little daughter vanished. You all know of the extensive and the intensive search which followed. You know that it is strongly suspected that the man who killed Mrs Bell and abducted her daughter is a locally known identity named Yorky. From information received, and following the results of my own survey of the country, I have reason to believe that somewhere in the middle of Lake Eyre is an area of dry land forming an island in a sea of mud, and that the man Yorky escaped to that island, taking the child with him.
“Also from information I have gathered, I think it is feasible for a man to cross the mud to that island by following one of the dingo pads, when wearing mud shoes. By this means I intend to test what are as yet only theories. I intend to try to reach the island by one of the dog pads from near this homestead, starting within an hour.
“I have been informed by the aborigines that these dog pads are not numerous. They are certainly not easily discernible. Assuming that there is a dry area of land somewhere towards the centre of the lake, then we may accept as fact that the dingoes use the place to gain food or rear their pups. Picture that dry area of land as the hub of a wheel, and the dog pads as the spokes of the wheel.
“To reach the hub, I must follow one of the spokes, and, should Yorky observe me approaching, he might well leave for the shore by one of the other spokes. Therefore, you will appreciate my difficulty in apprehending him.
“I ask you to co-operate with me by arranging among yourselves to watch Lake Eyre. In view of the length of the shoreline, it will be difficult for the number of men available to watch all points, so we can only do our best. I do not anticipate contact with the wanted man until late today. I am sure you will realize how delicately this operation must be carried out. Our main objective must be the safe recovery of Linda Bell, if alive. I leave the risks to your imagination.
“Finally. There is to be no shooting unless a life is in grave danger. I want you to understand clearly that I am far from satisfied that the man Yorky actually did kill Mrs Bell. I feel that I can rely on your common sense, and know I may rely on your co-operation. Thank you.”
Bony faced about from the transceiver to regard calmly Wootton’s outside staff, his inside staff, and the cattlemen, who turned about with him.
“I have something to say before I leave. You have just heard me broadcast that I am not satisfied Yorky killed Mrs Bell. That he and Linda Bell are somewhere out on the lake, I am hoping to prove within hours. Two matters cause me to doubt that Yorky is our man. One is that tracks found behind the meat-house and thought to have been made by Yorky are now proved to be forgeries. Thus they were made by someone wishing to incriminate Yorky. The other reason is that on the morning that Mrs Bell was killed, after you men had left on your duties for that day, after Mr Wootton left for town in his car, a horseman was seen riding away from this homestead.”
Sarah had provided early morning tea for the hands, and when all were in the kitchen, Bony telephoned Constable Pierce and spoke for five minutes. Ten minutes after that, he started out for Lake Eyre.